


Trust

by fragilespark



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: M/M, UST
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-16
Updated: 2013-12-16
Packaged: 2018-01-04 20:59:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1085638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fragilespark/pseuds/fragilespark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the Dragon Age Rare Pair Exchange 2013</p><p>Fenris hears that Hawke has encouraged Feynriel to go to Tevinter and decides to take matters into his own hands, encountering two of his Templar acquaintances along the way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MsBarrows](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsBarrows/gifts).



"You did _what_?" Fenris cried.

Marian grimaced. "I know it's Tevinter, but there really is no other way-"

"You are a fool," he said, shouldering his blade, "and I never knew how much. Have you learnt nothing?"

"Feynriel needs to manage his powers."

"I refuse to let this happen!" Fenris said, and raced out of Hawke's mansion.

"Fenris!" she called after him.

He remembered the boy, but had taken little interest in the recent developments - he was with the Dalish and their rituals were going to help him. It had been nothing to do with Fenris but as soon as he heard what had happened the dread feeling sank into his gut. The horrors of Tevinter were no place for a mage as powerful as Feynriel seemed to be. It could only end badly, no matter how one looked at it. Either Feynriel himself would be hurt or others would be.

Fenris still could not believe that Hawke could consider it as an option. His bare feet slapped on the stone as he ran.

Mages who could not be saved from themselves were one thing. One sent to Tevinter on pure ignorance, though - if he could prevent it, he would.

 

"Alright, I think we're done here." Cullen said, surveying the path to Sundermount one last time.

"Yes Ser." Carver nodded and shouldered his blade. They had been investigating a meeting and had managed to break it up without bloodshed and without suspicion that it was anything more serious.

"I must compliment you on the way you handled that. Why have you not applied for promotion yet? I think you're capable."

Carver felt a light flush creeping up his neck at the praise. "Thank you."

Cullen looked past him in concern and Carver turned round to see what was behind him: Fenris looking as if he'd been running all the way from the city.

"Fenris- Fenris, wait! What's-"

"The mage!" he cried out as he passed them.

Carver moved to jog after him but stopped, looking at Cullen. "Captain?"

Cullen gave a curt nod and started his own pursuit of the elf. A stray mage was always worth investigating, though no others had passed their way.

"Fenris!" Carver cried again, given free reign to sprint after him. Fenris was fast, but tired. Carver was at full strength, but burdened in his armour. It was several minutes before he caught up, Cullen at his heels. "Fenris, what's going on?"

The words came breathless. "Your sister is sending the mage to Tevinter."

"What mage? Anders?"

"No-"

"Just slow down," Carver said, grabbing his arm, to be met with a growl.

"Hawke is helping another apostate?" asked Cullen.

"Why are we going to the Dalish camp?"

Fenris slowed at the questions and caught his breath back. "The half-elf. Feynriel."

Carver recognised the name. "He's the one who we rescued from slavers..." He turned to Cullen. "Wasn't he the one we're not to pursue?"

"As long as he was with the Dalish. If he's running away, then..." he looked at Fenris. "Lead the way."

Fenris nodded and walked faster. "I left as soon as I found out - I don't know if he is still with them. Perhaps he is waiting for the morning, but I fear he has already left."

"Why is he going to Tevinter?" Carver said, resuming his jog as the others did.

"He seeks more knowledge of his power. Foolish mage!"

"Indeed." Cullen said as he hurried along with them.

 

The Dalish hunters had regarded them suspiciously. Hawke was not with them, but two of her companions were, and another templar. They kept their hands on their bows as they talked to the Keeper.

Fenris was abrupt, and Marethari seemed reluctant to give them information.

Carver put a hand on his shoulder and addressed her. "We just need to talk to him, that's all."

"Hawke has already done all she can do, as have I. He will suffer without further help."

"We want to help him." said Cullen.

Marethari shook her head. "Your Circle cannot. His powers are not... ordinary."

"Which is why Tevinter is the worst place he can go!" spat Fenris. "Venhedis! I will find him myself." Fenris headed to the path that led beyond the other side of the camp.

Carver started but held himself in check, glancing at Cullen for direction. Cullen nodded and Carver gave chase, resigning himself to the fact he was going to be doing a lot of it.

 

Fenris was not surprised to hear the steady metal crunch of Carver's footfalls behind him. Hawke had often commented on his stubborn nature. It did not matter. Their aid was fortunate. Any other templars, and the chase would have become a bloody hunt.

He ran and ran, looking for any sign of the boy. Carver had lagged further behind and Fenris paused for breath, to look around for any bearing. The day was fading and it would be hard to search once darkness swept over them. Carver jogged up to him, panting hard and looking relieved to be coming to a stop, and Cullen approached some way in the distance.

Evidently Feynriel wasn't going to walk to Tevinter so Fenris kept his attention west, guessing that the boy would travel to the next town for the convenience of a more direct route and a chance at travelling by cart.

"No-" Carver gasped, "no sign?"

Fenris waited until Cullen had reached them. "The name escapes me. What is the town that lies west of here?"

Cullen was similarly out of breath but fighting it well. "Cumberland," he managed.

Fenris nodded. "I intend to head in that direction. He must pause for nightfall and will likely do so soon."

"And what if we find nothing?" Carver said. "We have no supplies to camp."

Fenris just gave him a look. The number of nights he'd had to sleep rough and hungry, and just accepted it as part of life on the road, hadn't killed him.

"The Dalish Keeper did say one thing," Cullen said, surveying the area, "the boy needs people who support him. I take that to mean he does not wish to wander the wilderness alone, despite fearing discovery. So I would say that west is a good bet; we may yet find him, and tonight is our best chance."

Carver straightened and nodded. "Let's hope he hasn't gone far and is saving himself for the main trek tomorrow."

Fenris started walking, torn between the complacency of Feynriel needing to rest and the urgency of nightfall obscuring his whereabouts, especially if he wished to hide.

 

They came upon a small stream and it was only when they stopped to fill their water bottles that they were aware of how dim the evening light was.

"I suppose it'd be too much to hope that he'd light a fire." Carver said, running some of the cold water through his hair and shaking it out. Fenris assumed it kept him refreshed and alert.

Cullen watched his subordinate. "Yes... I mean- yes." He turned away abruptly to scan their surroundings once more.

Fenris leaned against the tree and checked his belt for what he had brought with him. In his haste, he doubted there would be much of use beyond his basic gear. Hawke usually warned them if their expeditions chanced an overnight stay. Still, there was always the possibility there was something acquired in a recent battle he had not removed. "The water makes this a good place to camp, and a good landmark. You may stay here, I will check a little further ahead."

He left them and continued along the line of trees. Fenris didn't aspire to silence, although he was much quieter than his companions. The soft crack of the occasional twig on the ground accompanied him and reminded him how uncomfortable it would be if they strayed from the worn paths.

"Hello?" a voice said, and Fenris turned towards the pale-haired young man. He was bewildered at finding him. He would have expected more caution, since he had been captured by slavers. He really was a danger to himself alone.

"Feynriel." he grumbled, more scolding than questioning.

"How do you know my name?"

"Hawke-" Fenris gestured, and then sighed.

"Oh." Feynriel said, as if it explained it all. He stepped forward. "Oh, you are..."

"Fenris."


	2. Chapter 2

Feynriel had hesitated on seeing the Templar armour, but he regarded Carver with unsure recognition. When Fenris alerted their attention and the younger Hawke looked up and stood, Feynriel seemed to relax. Fenris underestimated the impact of helping a mage such as this, if he considered those who helped him once as people to be trusted, even if they were wearing the uniform of the enemy. Perhaps Fenris was not too dissimilar in that respect, calling a mage like Hawke his friend. It troubled him that Feynriel was in danger of crossing into potential slavery, making him closer to Fenris' sympathies. The more Fenris thought about it, the clearer it was to him. Despite all Feynriel's magical power, his half-elvhen features and his inexperience in Tevinter society would make him a target, especially if he lacked the more practical kind of magic to defend himself in battle.

"Why are you here?" Feynriel asked Carver.

"Well, my sister... has she..." Carver waved his hand. He wasn't leading this. "Fenris says you are heading to Tevinter?"

Feynriel looked at each of them. "That's right."

"It's not," growled Fenris, "it's going to destroy you. Going there can only end in horror."

"How do you-"

"I've lived there. I was a slave."

Cullen looked over at Carver. Obviously it was news to him.

"But... you're not a mage. It'll be different for me."

"You are a fool." Fenris could not hold back his bitterness. His chance at tact was quickly disappearing. "I am telling you that I have lived it. Mages are enslaved too. Power and influence rule all. If you think you can protect yourself, you are blind."

Feynriel frowned. "And where else would you have me go? Nobody else has the information I need. Where else are mages allowed to write, and experiment?"

"You will be their next experiment!"

"Fenris-" Carver said, stepping in. "We can work through this. Feynriel, please listen to him."

Fenris was in no mood to talk more at that very instant. He removed himself from the group, walking into the near-darkness with stressed breaths. Was it better to let him simply be taken to the Circle? He and Carver had both disagreed with Hawke's actions at the time, but he had come to understand them. What was the point if Feynriel was going to squander his freedom? The Knight-Captain could do his job and force the boy where he belonged.

Yet there was something about that idea that didn't sit right with Fenris. He couldn't argue that he was protecting him from capture when the next thing he did was turn him in. There was something about Feynriel that made Fenris want to help him, and he couldn't pick it apart.

 

Carver sighed and watched Fenris go. He sat down on a log and looked at the others in the gloom.

"Hawke."

"Ser."

It always pleased him when Cullen called him Hawke, even though that was the correct way he was addressed among the Templars, other than the informal 'Hey Carv' which grated him no end. It occasionally brought to mind Ostagar, a long time ago.

"What do I need to know, here? Fill me in."

"Fenris was slave to a powerful magister. The one who gave him the lyrium markings. What he says is from experience."

"And you? Feynriel? What do you have to say?"

"You mean how do I convince you not to take me to the Circle?"

"You have been allowed to live with the Dalish because your situation was exceptional. Our purpose is to protect our charges as well as the public. It doesn't sound like this plan is in anyone's best interests, except the Magisters'."

"There's no alternative."

Fenris returned, a shadow against the dark horizon.

"Is information the only thing you need?"

"Well..."

"You will not meet another like yourself. What value is going in person, if you have what you're looking for?"

"... _if_. How are you going to get it?"

"Will you at least try?"

Cullen cleared his throat. Down to business. "What exactly are you suggesting, Fenris?"

"Feynriel will remain in Kirkwall and looked after, but he will be free to pursue his research." He turned to Feynriel. "You will be spared the Circle and Tevinter, and any questions you have about Tevinter itself I will answer to the best of my knowledge. It should dissuade you from throwing yourself at the place."

Carver worked this through in his mind. "If he's not going to the Circle, and not staying with the Dalish, where would he go? To his mother's house?"

"No." Fenris said. "To mine."

Carver had evidently missed out on a lot these past few years. Didn't Fenris hate mages? It seemed every encounter with them could not end too soon, now he was inviting one to share his home. One that Fenris had seemed fairly insistent should remain a place of barren solitude. Carver wondered what it looked like now inside, whether it had been cleaned up.

"I don't think it'll work," said Feynriel, "but... I could stay a bit longer, if only to hear what you have to say."

Carver looked over at Cullen. "Captain?"

Cullen looked to be considering it seriously. "I see this arrangement as an extension of our previous... leniency. But I can demand a regular report on your status to ensure the risk does not worsen. Hawke."

"Ser."

"You will be assigned to visit Fenris' home on request. Should you be unavailable, I will have to go myself."

"Yes Ser." It made perfect sense. He'd had worse jobs, and he was one of the lucky ones who knew the benefits of leniency from his sister's experience.

 

Fenris heard Carver's easy subservience and remembered how long and hard he'd complained about Aveline's withholding of his Guard application. He did know how to follow orders after all.

Having achieved a kind of temporary victory, Fenris' temper began to subdue. The immediate danger had passed. Now they were just four men sitting in the dark without a camp.

"Ser, if I may? I will take first watch."

"Very well. Wake me for the second."

Fenris looked in Feynriel's general direction. "You may sleep easy tonight."

Feynriel scoffed. "If only that were true."

 

After a couple of very boring hours, the sky began to clear of clouds and Carver could see the depth of the starfield above, much clearer than through the forge smoke that hung about the city. It was beautiful. He shifted to bring movement to his leadened limbs and filled the next hour studying as much as he could of the patterns above him. He needed this break, but still felt alone.

After a long sigh, he rolled his shoulders again. He was getting better at gauging the passing of time and was fairly sure he was not going to leave Cullen with a much larger portion of the night. He leaned over his Knight-Captain. Usually all recruits needed was a boot-shove to their midsection but Carver didn't think that was going to be appreciated. Cullen had an inexplicable good impression of him and he didn't want to ruin it. Putting a hand on his pauldron wouldn't cut it - Cullen wouldn't feel it. He rested his gloved palm against Cullen's cheek before drawing it away quickly. "Fuck." He looked around as if anyone would be witness to his embarrassment. He tried again. "Ser. Knight-Captain." Carver took hold of his arm and hoped he wouldn't end up with a blade at his throat.

"...nh... Carver?"

"Yeah..." That he had recognised it was him, in the darkness, was pretty impressive.

Cullen took a deep breath and stretched, before sitting up. "At ease, then."

"Yes. Ser." Carver sat back. He didn't like sleeping in full armour at all, and he hoped Cullen would forgive him if he took the most obstructive parts off. Cullen must ache like hell. Carver's own body was protesting as he rested his back down on the grass. Oh that was good. He sighed, weary. He could now let himself be drowsy too.

Cullen cleared his throat softly beside him.


	3. Chapter 3

Not much had been said on the way back to Kirkwall, and even less was said once Fenris brought Feynriel into his home. He took him to the room next to his own and told him it was his to use and fill as he saw fit. It turned out that among the Dalish he'd had few possessions, and most of what he had before was part of the home he had shared with his mother.

"So," Feynriel said at last, "how will this work? Are you going to write to your contacts in Tevinter?"

"Not exactly. Not at all, in fact. I neither write nor have a relationship with anyone there."

Feynriel scoffed. "So your help is just going to be purely anecdotal?"

Fenris grabbed him by the collar. "What could be more valuable than the experiences you are lucky enough to have me share? Most do not escape a life in slavery and those who are free in that society are usually found promoting it for their own interests! So unless you are looking for an introduction to my former master I suggest you do not take this matter so lightly from now on."

"Take it lightly? Do you know what it's like to wake up screaming?"

" _Yes_." Fenris said emphatically before letting go and heading for the door.

"Maybe it was a mistake coming here." Feynriel called after him.

"Maybe it was. But you are going to give it a try, as you agreed. Or would you like me to tell the Knight-Captain?"

Feynriel's voice continued, even as Fenris descended the stairs. "Is that how it's going to be? You threaten me with that every time I do something you don't like?"

Argumentative. Stubborn. Always wanting the last word. Fenris was starting to see the resemblance to a certain other blonde apostate. He would have to avoid that comparison worsening his opinion of Feynriel even further. He was doing the boy a favour. He had absolutely no need to be doing any of this, Fenris thought as he rubbed his temple. Hawke would also learn soon enough, and it remained to be seen whether or not she would disapprove of his actions.

 

It wasn't until the following day that Carver had the chance to drop in.

"How are they doing?" asked Cullen.

Carver stood up a little straighter. It always helped to make the reports feel more official, no matter how brief.

"Feynriel is still there, although it seems the only things they've managed to work out between them are things like how to account for the expense of food. As for Feynriel's reason for being there, he expressed- repeated his concerns that he will be unable to get what he needs there."

"Well, it's early yet. Is that all, Carver?"

The unexpected use of his first name encouraged him to be a bit more open about an idea that he had been trying to work out. "Ser... I know there is no possibility of directly getting him to access our resources, in terms of books, I mean."

"Go on."

"But... is there a chance we can arrange to loan some materials to the Chantry, and Feynriel can look at them there?"

"Feynriel should be in the Circle. To knowingly let him stay in Kirkwall is problematic enough to justify. The only reason he has been free these few years is because the Dalish could provide something we could not, and they took responsibility for him."

Carver nodded. He knew all this.

"Fenris is attempting something similar, but the chance of it being viable is very slim. They must not waste the opportunity. And to answer your question... in principle, no. However, if you find a specific example that you can argue has a good chance of helping, by all means ask me again."

"Yes, Ser." He turned to go.

"Hawke."

Carver stopped and looked back at his superior.

"Keeping an apostate free is a serious matter, as you already know. We cannot be allowed to set a precedent. If you ever suspect that Feynriel is going to break the arrangement and set off on his own again, you must put a stop to it, or Fenris himself may be held suspect."

"I trust Fenris."

He hoped that would be enough, for the moment.

 

Fenris was sure that Feynriel going to Tevinter was the worst thing that could happen. The alternative he had proposed was difficult to maintain, however, when they were making little progress and could barely see eye to eye. His disgust at the memories he recalled for Feynriel's benefit did little to improve his mood or the atmosphere between them. It was tiring. Fenris didn't want to hate Feynriel but now it seemed the boy's displeasure at being there only increased day by day.

Instead of protecting Feynriel against corruption, he was fuelling it.

There were two options left to him. Give up and sever all involvement, or change his behaviour and hope Feynriel responded positively. It had been hard enough to let himself open up to Hawke, and he had known her for three years. Still, he would have to try, or the situation would become insufferable for them both.

Feynriel had found some writing paper and ink in the mansion and they managed to compose a letter to the Minrathous Library to request titles that dealt with Somniari. The magic was so rare that there was little danger of the request being seen as anything other than academic, and Fenris made sure to have it sent care of Varric's merchant contacts so it could not be traced back to them. Once they had the list it would be easy to obtain the titles, although unusual to have them reach so far out of the Imperium. However, without knowing where they could obtain them in the Free Marches, the search would be lengthy and unsuccessful.

Fenris thus had a way to reassure Feynriel that they would make progress and it would be faster than expected.

"Come take some wine with me, Feynriel. I am afraid my offering here has provided few luxuries, but this is something I hope we will both enjoy."

"I thought you had bad memories of it?"

"Indeed, but it does not follow that I cannot attempt to decide its significance for myself." Fenris looked at the bottle. "These last few years, I have thought that I would like to replace it with... something like friendship."

"I've never really drunk wine. Mother said that my father used to drink wine from Antiva when he could, even though he thought they all tasted the same. But he wasn't allowed to say that, especially not as a merchant."

Fenris didn't know how to comfort Feynriel. His concept of family was a new and fragile thing, since his discovery of his sister's existence. "Would it help if your mother visited you here?"

"No." He shook his head. "I don't want her to get into trouble. The fewer people know about me being here, the better. They can all think I have gone away."

"You are determined to face this alone, then?"

Feynriel's scoff might have had a hint of a smile. "I thought the point of this was that I wouldn't be alone?"

"That... that is correct." Fenris put the bottle down. "If you find me... unsociable, it is because I am unused to this. But I would like to- I would like to be of value in more than just a functional way."

"Which is a roundabout way of saying what, exactly?"

Fenris closed his eyes. "That I am willing to stand by your side, if you would stand by mine."

"You want me to be your friend?"

"There is a letter I wish to send to Tevinter. If you would write it, it would mean a lot to me."

"So my value is just _functional_ then?"

"No! That is not what I meant." Fenris felt himself grow hot. "It is- I would trust you in this."

It was Feynriel's turn to let his demeanour soften. "Ah... I didn't see it that way."

Fenris picked up the bottle again. "Would you toast with me?"

"To friendship?"

"To finding someone to want to attempt it with."

Feynriel laughed. "At least you're honest about it." He lifted a shoulder. "Do you have a glass?"


End file.
